Finally, after many many weeks, I have returned with an all new chapter for this story!

I had writer's block for this (dun dun dun), and it took me forever to even think of this idea. Anyways, since it is finals week, this story might not have my usual fling so forgive me for that. I really hope you enjoy it, though.

Ok, so regarding the poll, the most voted candidate was Mayuzumi Chihiro. I decided to write him a bit later, more so because I want him to show up later in the series. I kind of also didn't have a concrete idea for him, so he will cameo later. For now, this is Imayoshi's corner!

Please don't forget to check out the poll for this story because I do need to know who you guys want to see next and I'll try my best to get ideas for it :)

So, without further ado, here is the next chapter!


HEADS UP

1. This will completely ignore the time schemes. I'm going to upload the characters the order in which I want to write them at. So, for example, one chapter could be after the winter cup, and the next could be in the time when Seirin beat Kaijo at a practice match. I will put the time in which the chapter will be at, but I'm saying this now so you guys don't get confused

2. It is highly likely that the characters, aka victims, will be out of character. One because the plot demands it, and two because I just can't get out of my comfort zone to write really mean characters (cough cough Hanamiya, Haizaki etc) So, forgive me if I can't really write these types of characters well and let us hope that i will be able to write them better in the near future

3. The portraits/paintings that I will mention in each chapter are pictures I found on the Internet. To give you guys a better perspective on what the victims will be witnessing, I'll put the links up both at the end of the chapter and at my profile. Just remember to take away the spaces if you're too lazy to click on my profile and find it there. There will sometimes be more than one painting the character will witness, so heads up


Title: A Picture is Worth a Thousand Words

Rating: T

Pairings: None

Time frame: A week after the Seirin VS Touo rematch game

Warning: Abusive family relationship(ish)

Third Victim: Imayoshi Shoichi


Imayoshi was kicked out of the house. Again.

He should probably be more clear. He was kicked out of the house, more like he left it instead.

It wasn't his fault, really; what else could he do? His parents were fighting terribly for the umpteenth time and he had already learned his lesson of trying to butt in and try and save his father's arse. He winced slightly at the memory. He never knew his mother could have such a powerful slap.

Honestly, he couldn't understand why his father would go out and spite her, turn her into a complete demon. But then again, Imayoshi couldn't help but take his father's side as well. Was it his father's fault that women flocked all over him, even though he already had a wife? Was it his fault that he had a gift to make any woman fall head over heels for him? Was it his fault he had the talent of charming the pants off anyone? Who could Imayoshi blame? He had to get his devious side from somewhere, his skillful use of wordplay, and his father just used it well and to his advantage.

With that said, when his mother figured out that he was having another affair, she cracked. Imayoshi saw it the moment she walked into the house after finishing her work as a successful business woman. Thankfully, she gave him enough time to clear out. Just as he walked out of his house, he heard the screams and the crashes of objects that were helplessly thrown at walls when they were meant for his father, the target.

Now, Imayoshi was mindlessly walking around Tokyo's streets, in hopes of satiating this gnawing feeling in his chest. He really didn't like the feeling, even though he had felt it multiple times. He had no idea where it was coming from and he really didn't want to know, being smart enough to understand that it had something to with his messed up family. He knew his family was not the ideal, perfect family he had always envisioned in his mind, but he just didn't have the courage to say it aloud. He refused to believe it. His family was perfectly fine. His family was perfectly fine.

The gnawing feeling grew bigger, which started to annoy Imayoshi. And then, it started to suffocate him. His clutched his chest and tried to breath evenly, but the feeling just wouldn't disappear. Imayoshi angrily tried to force it back down to where it belonged but failed miserably. The feeling just seemed to get bigger. He swayed a bit, trying to regain his balance, and eventually leaned against a wall that led to Maji Burger. He involuntarily glanced at the window and laid his eyes on a family that had a mother, father, and a little boy with a toy car. The little boy looked happy as he ran the toy car along the table and his mother made him stop for a second to feed him part of her hamburger. The little boy complied immediately and the father ruffled his hair in affection.

Imayoshi growled at the public affection. It was disgusting to watch. He didn't care that it was normal for a family to do such things. It was still disgusting. Then, he remembered when his parents did the same to him, when he was only a small child who didn't know anything. It was funny, Imayoshi thought humorlessly, because he had believed that he had lost all his childhood memories when his father had become the man he was today.

The feeling grew immensely in mere seconds and Imayoshi doubled over, wanting to vomit but holding back to not cause a scene. He saw dark spots dancing around and he felt himself floating in a pit of fire. The feeling enlit itself to full blast and his legs buckled over, making him fall to the ground. He wasn't sure if people were watching him but at this point, he just didn't care. All he wanted was for this terrible gnawing feeling to go away.

"Imayoshi- san? Are you ok?" He heard a distinct yet familiar voice call to him. He tried to lift his head to see who it was but as he did, the remaining strength he had dissipated and he collapsed, unconscious.


It was a few hours before Imayoshi could come back to his senses. When he woke up, the first thing he saw was a beautiful, golden chandelier dangling above him. That, however, wasn't what made him realize he was somewhere he didn't know. It wasn't until he saw a painting hanging from the wall opposite to him that Imayoshi finally registered he was at an unknown place. He tried to get up and investigate as to where he was but he crashed to the floor, his legs still weak from before. Before he could get up again, the door opened and a petite woman in a maid outfit entered.

"Oh, so you were awake." She commented and laid out clothes on a chair that was next to the door. "Here are some spare clothes. They may be a bit small for you, but please cooperate. The master was very kind in giving you these, so please wash up." She said in monotone before leaving, not caring that Imayoshi was still splayed out on the floor.

Imayoshi waited a few seconds before standing up and steadying himself. He walked carefully to the clothes and grabbed them, then headed for the bathroom.

The painting never seemed to leave his eyes.


After a refreshing shower (Imayoshi never knew a bubble bath could be so calm and tranquil), he went outside the bedroom and tried to find out where he was. He was obviously in a very rich house because once he went outside, he was overwhelmed by the enormous hallway and the many paths that led to many rooms.

He walked cautiously at first, making sure not to make a sound. He had seen many movies in his life and normally, a person like him would be known as the antagonist. However, when his eyes met with one of the maids, not the one who had delivered the clothes, and she did nothing, he realized that maybe he was actually a guest here, which made no sense at all because he didn't know anyone who owned an actual mansion.

When he finally found the staircase that led to the main entrance, someone called out his name.

"Imayoshi-san?" Imayoshi turned around to face the voice and was shocked beyond measure.

"Kuroko?" Imayoshi asked incredulously and it suddenly made so much more sense why the borrowed clothes were very, very small.

"Are you feeling better?" Kuroko asked, indifferent to the fact that Imayoshi had just put two and two together.

"You're - You live here?" Imayoshi asked, completely ignoring the question. Kuroko nodded once and Imayoshi only blinked at the phantom man.

"Are you feeling better, Imayoshi-san?" Kuroko asked once more and Imayoshi needed a few seconds of quiet time before he could nod.

"That is good." Kuroko started to say. "You gave everyone a scare when you fainted. Do you know what happened?" He then asked and Imayoshi suddenly felt a jab to his stomach.

Ah, the feeling was back.

Imayoshi gave Kuroko a sly grin and shrugged.

"You know, it's really unnerving to be talking to you, you know? Since you beat us at the Winter Cup not long ago." He said, avoiding the question and using a tone that most people would find uncomfortable. Kuroko, however, didn't feel fazed at all.

"Is that so?" Kuroko merely answered and Imayoshi just shrugged, keeping his fake grin on him. Kuroko studied him for a second, and throughout that second, Imayoshi felt himself being exposed to the eyes of Kuroko. Would he know what Imayoshi was going through with just a glance? But that was impossible. Imayoshi had mastered the art of hiding his true feelings ages ago. There was absolutely no way he could be found out by someone he had met only a few months ago. There was absolutely no way.

But as Kuroko started opening his mouth to say something, Imayoshi sweatdropped, suddenly losing confidence in himself and his way. His grin faltered and Kuroko's eyes sparked.

"Tetsuya-sama, I found the brush!" The maid who had brought his clothes earlier interrupted, and Kuroko turned his gaze to her. Imayoshi let out a breath he didn't know he was holding and focused his attention to their conversation.

"Thank you, Nakashima-san." Kuroko bowed as he received the brush with two hands. The maid, Nakashima, looked flustered and hastily made Kuroko straighten his form.

"Tetsuya-sama, you know you're not supposed to bow to your servants!" Nakashima said uncomfortably, but Kuroko shrugged.

"What does it matter if I do, Nakashima-san?" Kuroko asked and the maid didn't have answer to give him. "I will bow to whomever I respect." He finished and at that, Nakashima blushed profoundly before bowing and leaving the scene. Imayoshi directed his attention to Seirin's smallest player, who was currently looking at the old brush with a happy glint in his normally blank eyes.

"Ah, well, I think I'll just leave now. I overstayed my visit." Imayoshi said and tried to excuse himself to leave, to get away from this overly observant phantom man, but Kuroko stopped him at the last second.

"You may stay here overnight if you wish, Imayoshi-san. Besides, it is already very late." Kuroko responded, pointing to a grandfather clock that stroke 11 pm. Just how long had Imayoshi been out?

"You were out for a long time, Imayoshi-san. Almost 4 hours. We were getting worried." Kuroko said, as if he were reading his mind.

"How did you -"
"In any case, you can use the guest bedroom you were just at. If you have any problems, do not be shy to call for me or Nakashima-san." Kuroko finalized and bowed. As he left, Imayoshi was struck by a weird notion.

'Why did Kuroko need a painting brush?'


Imayoshi was restless. He just couldn't sleep. This normally happened to him; he was one of those people who couldn't sleep well if they slept before they normal sleeping time. He tossed and turned to find a comfortable spot in the already comfortable bed but whenever he closed his eyes, the gnawing feeling would appear.

After 2 AM struck, he decided to walk around the mansion and lay his mind off his parents. He wondered briefly on what they were doing, and he dismissed soon after. They were probably still fighting, or worse, having make-up sex. Sometimes, Imayoshi couldn't help but despise his father for making even the angriest people bow to his command. He had no idea how his father could do such a thing.

At this point, Imayoshi wondered whether they were a family at all.

Before he left the guestroom, he stopped right in front of the painting that had been with him since he woke up. Whoever painted this was a genius, even to Imayoshi's eyes and he was a very harsh critic. He stared at the eyes of the painted lady and felt the gnawing feeling in him disappear slightly. He grasped his chest in confusion and as he kept looking at the painting. He sensed that the lady was somewhat examining him, telling him with her eyes that she knew what he was going through. Scared, he immediately exited.

There was no way a painting, a fucking painting, could know what he was going through. It wasn't even alive to begin with! The artist, he had to know who the artist was. He had to know how the artist could do such a thing, where the painting itself could dig deep into the soul of a twisted mind.

Imayoshi remembered what Kuroko had said before they parted ways. If he had a problem, he could just call for him or the maid, Nakashima. Well, Imayoshi decided that this was a big problem. There was absolutely no way a painting could know what he was thinking, what he had been through, what he was going through now. All those years of self-teaching were lost immediately and he hated it so much. It was a mistake, that was what it was. He was just delusional, still a bit groggy from fainting in the evening.

Why did he even faint? He stopped in his steps as the thought ran across his mind. He remembered the cause to it: the gnawing feeling that had grown significantly. Then what was the gnawing feeling and why had it grown? Did he even want to know?

Imayoshi decided to ignore finding the cause to it for the millionth time. It was too much to process and he didn't want to know at all. He knew it had something to do with his father, his family. But he didn't want to know. He didn't want to admit it. Not now. Not ever.

After that, Imayoshi started walking again to find Kuroko's room and ask him about the artist who drew the painted lady and make sure he was just imagining it in his mind. It was pure imagination, it had to be.

He ran through the hallway, not caring anymore about making a lot of noise, and after a few tries in trying to find the phantom man, he gave up and slowed down to a walk. Imayoshi felt like he was walking in circles. This was the bad thing about mansions; they were just too big and far too lonely. He was just about to give in and go back to the guest room when he saw from the corner of his eye a light that did not come from the walls of the hallway. He walked towards it silently and when he stood in front of the door, he hesitated in opening it. What if it wasn't Kuroko but rather Kuroko's father? A person he didn't know?

However, the curiosity became too great for him and he had no choice but to open the door.

"Kuroko? Are you -" Imayoshi couldn't finish his words as he took in the sight of the room. His jaw was left hanging open and he took several steps back before colliding with the wall behind him.

"Imayoshi-san, are you ok?" Kuroko asked as he stepped outside his room to help the fallen Touou player. He held out his hand but Imayoshi refused.

"I'm fine. Just overwhelmed." Imayoshi stuttered slightly, completely unlike him, and Kuroko gestured him to enter his room.

"I am sorry if it is a bit messy. I hadn't had time to clean it up and I told the maids not to because I would have gotten it dirty the moment I started painting again." He said and Imayoshi made sure not to step on the newspaper-covered floor carelessly. He took more time in inspecting Kuroko's room, this time with a lot more caution, and he saw that his room was literally an art studio. Paints of all kinds of colors were spread out on one side, unused canvasses were stacked up in another, and wooden stands were placed randomly around the room with paintings that still seemed to be drying.

Then, Imayoshi noticed the walls that were all decorated.

"Imayoshi-san, it is ok to enter." Kuroko suddenly said and Imayoshi realized that he was still at the doorway. Slowly, he walked in, his eyes still on the walls that were adorned with various portraits and canvasses.

Kuroko said nothing and just watched the former captain of Touo go. Quietly, he went back to the painting he was almost done with, now determined to finish it as quickly as possible. Sometimes, he thanked the gods that the portraits he was doing corresponded to the events that were happening now.

Imayoshi didn't notice Kuroko, of course, not only because Kuroko was as silent as a ghost, but also because he was too mesmerized by the paintings in front of him. He went from one portrait to another, and the gnawing feeling he was cursed with suddenly decided to show itself. Imayoshi was sweating at this point to hide the pain he was in, and kept studying the works laid out before him.

He then came across people he knew so well, both directly and indirectly.

"The Generation of Miracles, huh?" He whispered to himself and glanced at the troublemaker that was now in his team, Aomine Daiki. In the painting, they were playing a card game, and it seemed like Kise Ryouta, the copycat of Kaijo, was taking a selfie rather than it being a painting. They all seemed so carefree, so happy.

Had this happened before, in middle school, when the Generation of Miracles were still together? They definitely seemed younger with their childish faces, and more importantly, Imayoshi felt like they were a family, brothers in everything but blood.

The feeling kept getting bigger and more painful.

A moan of pain escaped Imayoshi's mouth as he needed to support himself once more. The pain was unbearable and he knew he was going to collapse again if he kept looking at the paintings. He closed his eyes to steady his breathing and when he felt the pain subside just a little, he opened them and looked for Kuroko.

"Oi, Kuroko, did you paint all of these?" He said in a raspy voice and Kuroko, who was still working on his latest painting, nodded.

"I didn't know you could draw." Imayoshi added and Kuroko shrugged. "What are you even doing?" He then asked, suddenly curious. Kuroko said nothing for a moment, putting the final touches, and when he was satisfied, he finally looked at Imayoshi in a new light.

"I was painting something for you and your team." He answered and Imayoshi looked at him peculiarly.

"Me and my team?" He repeated and Kuroko nodded.

"Would you like to see?" He asked and Imayoshi nodded hesitantly. He found his balance and walked over to where Kuroko was at.

And when Kuroko revealed what he had been doing, Imayoshi felt a series of emotions passing through him. First surprise, then disbelief, then a comfortable feeling eating the gnawing one away.

Finally, Imayoshi wept. Because what Kuroko had drawn for him was exactly what he was lacking in life: A family.

The work consisted of Touo's first stringers, those who had retired and those who hadn't, and it seemed like the third years had finished graduation. Imayoshi was holding a diploma, along with Susa, and Wakamatsu was hugging them with his head down. Though it was not portrayed, anyone could infer that Wakamatsu was crying. Even Aomine and Momoi were in the picture and Imayoshi laughed while crying. It was as if Kuroko was in their team all along because Aomine was tied up with a rope, looking ruefully annoyed but also shy and reserved, as if he were pondering whether to join Wakamatsu on the hug.

Imayoshi then bent down and, while still crying, enjoyed the warmth that substituted the horrible pain he had been experiencing his whole life. The relief was overwhelming for him to get used to immediately but Imayoshi knew he could bear it for now.

Imayoshi then looked towards Kuroko, who was giving him a soft look, and whispered, "Thank you."


It wasn't until long after Imayoshi had left the mansion with the painting in his possession that he understood the comfortable feeling he had in him, and what the gnawing feeling was. He had lived most of his childhood hiding from his parents fighting, and had become so accustomed to it that he didn't know he was losing his family, his most loved ones. The gnawing feeling he had was one of loss and abandonment, and because Imayoshi had stored all those feelings inside of his for so long, it was no wonder that such pain was inevitable and, at the same time, unbearable. He had unconsciously believed that he did not even have a family, but with the painting Kuroko had given him, he finally realized how wrong he had been.

His family was there with him, just like how the Generation of Miracles were a family as well in middle school.

His family was his team. Nothing more.

As Imayoshi typed in the password to his household, which was now quiet, he wondered whether he would lose his newly found family once he actually graduated. Immediately, he discarded the thought. He would never forget, and vice versa as well, because he knew that family never forgot their members.

"Sho-chan, is that you?" His mother called out and Imayoshi answered that it was him. His mother came out of her room with freshly put makeup and business suit, hands on her hips and a skeptical look on her face.

"Where were you last night? I tried to contact you but you didn't answer." His mother said and Imayoshi smiled. An actual smile. At that, his mother's facade faltered and looked at Imayoshi with a new look.

"I was with a friend." Imayoshi responded and it was then that his mother saw the canvas tucked under his arm.

"What is that?" She asked and he gave her the painting. His mother gasped in surprise and then gave it a soft smile.

"So this is your team, huh?" She said and Imayoshi nodded. "It's beautiful. I didn't know you had such a connection with your teammates."

"I didn't know either." He admitted and she gave the canvas back.

"We're not good parents, are we?" His mother then said hesitantly and Imayoshi froze.

"What do you mean?" His mother scratched her head in embarrassment.

"I'm sorry you had to go through so many of our fights when you were little, Sho-chan. As a mother, I should have known better and helped you but I abandoned you instead. But seeing this painting and how even you acknowledge the connection you have with your team, I'm so glad that you found a replacement for this excuse of a family." She explained but Imayoshi couldn't answer her back. He wanted to say desperately that it wasn't that. But then again, what she had said was all true.

Imayoshi gave her a small smile and shrugged, not able to trust himself to speak. His mother got the message though: the past was in the past.

"Will you miss them once you get to university?" She then asked and Imayoshi thought about it for a second. He was not one to voice out his emotions. This time, however, was an exception.

"I think I'm going to miss them a lot. I'm really going to miss them." He whispered and his mother hugged him. He froze in his place before wrapping his arms around her.

Maybe now, they could start becoming a true family again.


"Tetsuya-sama, you look horrible! At what time did you sleep?" Nakashima commented as Kuroko walked down the stairs, stretching his arms in an exaggerated manner.

"A bit later than usual, Nakashima-san." He responded and they both went to the kitchen.

"The usual being 3 in the morning? You are hopeless, Tetsuya-sama." Nakashima teased. "The glasses-wearing student seemed to be carrying your latest work."

"Is that so?" He hummed as one of the maids put out a plate for him. He thanked her and she blushed before going back to her duties.

"He looked a lot healthier than before. Happier, even." Nakashima said, leaning against the counter.

"I am glad to hear that."

"Do you believe me now when I say that your paintings can change people's lives?" Nakashima then asked and Kuroko shook his head.

"I do nothing, Nakashima-san. I paint what I think. It is up to the viewer to decide what to do with it." He responded and Nakashima smiled at him.

"Ok, ok, Tetsuya-sama. Whatever you say." She said in a sarcastic, yet caring tone and left it at that. She remembered what happened a few weeks ago, with Hanamiya Makoto and even more so in the past, when he was still in middle school and was best friends with five colorful haired boys. She then remembered the mural that was taken down by Kuroko himself and smiled sadly. It was in storage, Nakashima recalled, and wondered whether the five would ever come back and see Kuroko's paintings again.

'If only you knew what these paintings could do to people, Tetsuya-sama. If only you knew.' She thought, thinking of her own past and mentally thanking Kuroko for helping her find her way in life. Nakashima was a grateful person, she would do anything to help the young master achieve his true goal. She took one more glance at the teal-haired boy and happily went on with her work, determined to help the master again.


So how was it? Good, bad, meh? Tell me in the reviews!

Portrait of Imayoshi and team: www . zerochan 1721357 # full

Portrait of past GoM: weheartit entry / 49809370

Please don't forget to vote on the next victim for this story and I hope I won't have too much of writer's block from this :)

Moving on, my next update will probably be my Overseas story because it's been some time since I've updated it. You guys seem to really love the concept and I love that I can put my own experiences to it, so please await for it :)

That's it for me and wish my luck on my finals!

Peace,

FlyAndDontLookBack